Midnight Riders
by ilovewolfs1234
Summary: The forest elves are a wild breed. With there clawed hands, oddly cut hair and cat like eyes they could also be considered feral. Feral is not something the king of Mirkwood is used to. When the forest elves rescue the king will he learn to accept their culture? Will he even fall in love with a certain wild woman?(Thranduil x Oc)
1. Chapter 1

Middle Earth was a strange place to say the least.

Different races and animals roamed these lands. Either feral, elegant or a rare mix of the two.

The forest elves were the odd and rare combination. Their feral side was shown threw there long spindly claw like fingers and half way shaved heads. There elegance was the swift way they hunted, their architecture, and the pure superiority the held themselves in.

The forest elves were noble, wise and ferocious. A deadly combination.

Most were hunted, shot down, bounties were placed on heads.

They fought back, not to long before they disappeared into the forest of their origin.

Their memory faded into myth, legends.

The colony of survivors however, thrived in their safety.

The forest was quiet, crickets fell into a oblivion, owls kept to them selves. Night was covering the land, stars burned holes in the darkness; the moon shone ever so bright. The wind gently rustled the leaves and they danced in the wind.

In an instant, war whoops and shouts rang out.

Wolves started their howling and horses snorted and pawed at the ground.

Men and women rode out on their horses, they were adorned in feathers, beads and paint.

Wolves ran alongside them, they were blurs in the night.

They were loud, and shouting. They sat atop their horses, bows raised and ready to fire a volley on the orcs.

Arrows rained down into the camp. Screams of outrage and pain came from the camp. This fueled the explosion that was the Forest elves.

More whooping and yelling, they yipped like the wolves that ran with them.

The fire in the center of the camp burned bright, the red flames flickered and cast light on the scene taking place.

Orcs were standing and wielding their bulky weaponry. Confusion sat on each on of the dull creatures' faces. Arrows plunged themselves in the orcs, piercing through their armour. Horses neighed and reared with their elvish riders, hooves flying in the chaos striking some down.

Many orcs fell dead, all eventually, and no elves perished. Once the last foe was vanquished the elves broke into celebration.

Smiles covered their faces, they talked amongst one another and embraced.

They rode off into the night.

The elvish king of Mirkwood stood by a smoldering heap of destruction.

His men stood back, away from the wreckage. He stared down at the bodies of the orcs. Arrows plunged sat plunged into the putrid flesh. Blades were protruding from skin along with bone. It was a disturbing sight in the least.

Fire still burned at the ground, a few bodies were burning. Thranduil walked to a slain orc and ripped an arrow from the body.

It was elvish in design, but in a way not quite. The feathers that sat on the end of the shaft were as dark as raven feathers. The arrow shaft was painted, and hand crafted. Thranduil dropped the arrow on the ground.

" _Interesting_ ,"

He told his to move back, the began their trek back to the palace. He however stayed behind. His elk stayed by his side. The king walked with the reins of his stead in his hands.

Thranduil was busy looking in the woods when he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head...


	2. Chapter 2

The woman muttered under her breath. Her wolf looked up from the ground as she continued her murmuring. She held her horse's reins as she walked. The forest floor was silent under her feet as she moved nimbly through it.

She had attended last night's raid, and was exhausted from the activities but none the less she had a duty as head of her people to check for any surviving orcs.

Her wolf's fur bristled as it caught a scent.

She turned her head to see her wolf trotting over to the edge of the clearing. It raised its head and let out a sharp bark, the woman ran to her animal.

It stood beside a man who appeared to be unconscious, blood stained his almost white hair, and his face was twisted in agony.

She crouched down beside him, she put a finger under his nose to check for breath.

He was alive.

She whistled for her stallion, the animal came running.

It waited for its commands, she motioned for the creature to kneel.

The paint did so, the woman pulled the unconscious man onto her horse. His large frame was not light to say the least, she grunted in effort to hoist him on the stallion.

Once he was in place she got the horse to stand and whistled for her wolf.

This day had taken a rather unsuspecting turn...

Swaying, pounding, and aching.

That was all Thranduil could put together. He groaned as his consciousness began to return.

Where was he?

He heard hooves and smelled a horse. Defiantly a horse. Blinking he took a look, his world was upside down. Literally upside down.

His head moved back and forth with each step the horse took causing him to feel slightly nauseated.

He saw legs, human legs- or what he hoped to be human, in front of him.

They stopped so did the horse, and his stomach was relived.

"You're awake."

His head was lifted up by someone's hand. He saw and odd looking woman's face. She had amber eyes and half a head of hair. Both sides were shaved clean of her dark waves, a long trail started on her forehead and fell all the way to her hips. Beads wove them selves in between the strands of her long hair. But her hair was by far not the strangest thing about her, it was her ears. They were pointed and sat slightly out ward. They were rather long and sideways. This was a creature he had never seen before.

"Hm- where, where am I? Who are you? What, are you? How did I get here?"

She frowned slightly.

"You talk too much." She walked back to the front of the horse, Thranduil struggled when he realised he was bound to the horse.

Great, this was **_magnificent_**.

He was stuck on the back of some horse, lead by a strange female, and he had funny feeling the wolf following thought he might be a snack.


End file.
